


Strings

by AsreonInfusion



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Depression, Emotional Manipulation, Generally just a lot of the fucked-up-ness you'd expect with puppet Cloud, M/M, Mind Control, Puppet Cloud, Unhealthy Relationships, negativity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 09:24:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7929427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsreonInfusion/pseuds/AsreonInfusion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short mini fics and drabbles featuring puppet Cloud. Each chapter is a standalone, though some could be read as taking place at different points in time in the same AU.</p>
<p>[Cross-posted from Tumblr, because I realised I never moved them over here and there always needs to be more puppet Cloud.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This first mini fic was something I wrote as an addition to a post waifujuju made. The original post/prompt read:
> 
> "So picture this puppet! Cloud idea ravenclawkohai and I kept talking about
> 
> Basically it’s the idea that when Cloud’s fighting, emotional, or Sephiroth/Jenova/Reunion is mentioned, his eyes go all Jenova with the green and the slit pupils. In no time, Avalanche takes notice of this and gets freaked out and starts questioning him but he can’t see it. Eventually, his eyes are glowing green more often and Avalanche are growing distant and unnerved. 
> 
> When Aeris and Tifa try to show him in a mirror all he sees is his normal blue eyes. When he turns around, all they see are Sephiroth’s eyes permanently staring back at them.
> 
> Avalanche has been walking on eggshells around him, treating him like a second Sephiroth and Cloud starts to hate it, hate those humans. When Sephiroth comes to collect at Reunion, Cloud goes along willingly. "

Nothing had changed. The realisation sank like acid in Cloud’s stomach.

Tifa and Aerith laughed together while Cid recounted his adventures in the original Tiny Broncho. Vincent was in a deep discussion with Barret regarding the mechanics his gun arm. Yuffie, Nanaki and Cait Sith were discussing the ethics and efficacy of various government types, an oddly serious topic belied by the way Nanaki would leisurely wave the fiery tip of his tail in Yuffie’s direction to make her swat at it like a cat with a feathery toy.

Not so long ago, Cloud would have considered himself part of the group. He would have been included in the stories and laughter and discussion. But he’d been deluding himself.

It has started with Sephiroth. They were going after the man - of course his name came up pretty often in conversation. And Cloud felt his chest tighten in rage and sorrow every time it did, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t talk about it. But the others would fall silent. Their changes of topic were awkward and forced. They shared alarmed glances when they thought Cloud wasn’t looking.

He didn’t understand, but soon enough it became almost taboo to mention Sephiroth by name.

Then it was other things. Don’t talk about Nibelheim, the past. Midgar. SOLDIER. They were all so cautious when talking to him – he even caught Tifa physically flinching away one time.

He wished they’d never bothered trying to get along with him in the first place, if they were just going to turn around and start avoiding him again. It stung more than Cloud wanted to admit.

Cloud thought he’d grown up, but maybe he’d been right all along. He was always going to be on the outside looking in. Nothing had changed since Nibelheim at all.

—————-

“Oh, Cloud!”

Aerith was smiling at him, but her eyes and her stance were still wary. She never touched Cloud any more. She touched the others; a guiding hand when she was excited to show them something, a hand on their arm when she laughed, a sympathetic touch when they were down. Cloud pretended he didn’t miss the human contact.

“About your eyes…”

“They’re the colour of mako, right?”

Aerith nodded, too emphatically. “From SOLDIER. But…”

A flash of irritation shot through Cloud. Aerith tried not to show the way she tensed, shifting her weight back, away from him. She couldn’t meet his eyes.

“It’s more than that. You should look.”

They were staying in an inn. Cloud had a room to himself now - no one wanted to share with him. They didn’t say it, but they didn’t need to. Cloud was better off on his own anyway.

Aerith directed his attention to the mirror on the dresser in the homey little room.

Cloud looked. His eyes were bluer than he remembered from all those years ago, mako mixing in with the colour from his childhood. But that was all.

“I don’t get it.”

“Oh, Cloud,” Aerith said again. Her smile was the saddest Cloud had seen it.

—————- 

Cloud didn’t stay around AVALANCHE, not when he could avoid them. They travelled together during the day, only speaking minimally now. When they stopped to make camp, Cloud would leave, wandering until late at night.

They weren’t comfortable with him being there. The whole atmosphere tensed when he was around.

Well, Cloud didn’t like being around them either. It was like salt in a wound, watching them interact. They were friends, all of them.

He’d never had a friend in his life.

It was a bitter reminder of his loneliness. The ice that had settled into stomach was almost permanent now, gnawing into him. He started to resent them for it.

—————- 

“What’s wrong, Tifa?” It was the first time he’d spoken to anyone in days.

“It’s… it’s nothing. Cloud? You are… _you_ , aren’t you?”

—————- 

He couldn’t bear their presence any more. Any of them. The way they moved, the way they talked, their breaths that sounded loud and harsh and grating. Their words that meant nothing _._ Their mere existence was irritating.

“Cloud?”

“Cloud…”

“Cloud!”

He turned and walked away.

—————- 

“Cloud.”

The voice was like a whisper in his ear, soothing, a moment of calm amongst the maelstrom of pain and bitterness.

Long, powerful fingers caressed him, running down his arms, brushing the bangs from his face. The contact felt warm enough to sear his skin after so long without any at all. A curtain of silver hair pooled around around him and a callous smile was pressed against his lips.

Cloud didn’t remember any of it when he woke up.

—————- 

They couldn’t see it at all, could they? They didn’t see how foolish they were, how pointless everything was. No matter what they did, they would suffer. Everyone suffered. Cloud had travelled the Planet enough now to see it. Broken lives, broken dreams, broken hearts.

Moments of happiness were fragile and fleeting. Barely worth it at all.

Destroying them would be merciful.

—————- 

“Cloud,” the voice called. Cloud followed, unhesitating.

“Sephiroth. I’m here.”

Tifa screamed after him. “Cloud!”

Oh, now she wanted to talk? Cloud didn’t care. Didn’t listen. They’d had their chance, and they’d turned their backs on him.

His hands shook as he approached Sephiroth. “I brought you the black materia,” he said, his voice reverent. Sephiroth was their God, their avenging angel, their mercy.

Within the mako crystal, he saw Sephiroth’s eyes open.

“Good, puppet.”


	2. Chapter 2

The contact was gentle, soothing. Sephiroth’s voice was warm with quiet affection, and it was utterly disarming. 

“Cloud,” he said, and oh, he made it sound like he actually _cared_.

Cloud couldn’t. Couldn’t focus, couldn’t remember– Sephiroth was bad news, he had to stay away, but he didn’t know why he’d even thought that anymore.

Sephiroth was right about one thing for certain. All Cloud had ever known was a constant struggle. He was so tired. Sephiroth promised to end the suffering, and Cloud believed him.

What would he be losing, in return for the belonging Sephiroth offered? Did it even matter?

Sephiroth moved again, circling Cloud. Cloud could hear him, every footstep, but the blindfold stopped him from seeing and Sephiroth’s cells - Sephiroth’s will controlling him - stopped him from moving as surely as any bonds.

When Sephiroth stopped, he was standing in front of Cloud. He reached out to tenderly cup Cloud’s jaw, and Cloud couldn’t help the soft sigh that escaped him.

He couldn’t– he wasn’t meant to– but it he wanted it. That acceptance, that tenderness… love? Would Sephiroth love him?

Sephiroth laughed softly, kindly. But Cloud couldn’t see the little smirk that played at his lips.

“I have always loved you, my Cloud.”

That was enough. He felt it the second Cloud broke, the last of his resistance shattering. 

When Sephiroth leaned in, Cloud was there to meet him. So eager, almost begging for the affection.

Their kiss sealed the contract. Cloud surrendered himself to Sephiroth’s embrace, just as surely as he would surrender his soul.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of puppet Cloud written for Waifujuju's birthday. :)

Cloud had got used to it, the hole in his heart.

It had been so long that he’d forgotten what it had felt like without it – the mako helped with that too, of course. All he knew and all he had ever known was the dull, crushing ache, a constant constriction around his chest.

Sometimes it felt like he was still looking through the world in a mako haze. Voices sounded distant; his own movements felt alien; the smiles never quite reached his friends’ eyes.

It hurt, on the bad days, or other times it just felt like nothing at all. An empty slate.

Was that all he was?

Cloud held the Black Materia in his hand. He wasn’t sure how he had come to be here, amongst the tangled roots and crystallised mako of the Northern Crater. He’d spaced out again; lost another piece of time, of his own life.

The loss was worth it. The fractions of his own life were meaningless anyway. And here, _here_ …

Sephiroth was here. The man Cloud had tried so desperately to hate, but now he understood. He hadn’t been hunting Sephiroth down… Sephiroth had been calling him all along.

Standing in front of him, Cloud stirred. The heart he though he had lost for so long started beating again; a rush of blood, a moment of clarity. For the first time in so long - so, so long - Cloud though he remembered what it was to feel alive.

Sephiroth’s lips didn’t move, but Cloud could hear him all the same.

“ _Good boy, Cloud.”_

His legs were trembling with every step forward. He couldn’t breathe – or maybe he could, maybe he could finally breathe after an eternity without air, and it was the gasping breaths, the rush of oxygen, making his head spin.

“Sephiroth.” The name fell helplessly from his lips like a prayer.

He wasn’t supposed to be here. He wasn’t supposed to be handing over the Black Materia without a fight, he certainly wasn’t supposed to be handing it over with reverence instead. But what good was ‘supposed to’ when Sephiroth’s hand touched his, and Cloud finally felt whole.

“ _My puppet.“_

The rest of Cloud’s body sank into the mako crystal, into Sephiroth’s embrace, the Black Materia held between them. Sephiroth’s eyes opened, his emerald stare meeting with Cloud’s own mako-laced eyes. And he smiled.

(Maybe it was more of a smirk.)

His fingers trailed up Cloud’s bared arm, to his jaw, weaving into his hair. Sephiroth rested their foreheads together, and Cloud closed his eyes with a quiet sigh.

The world was going to end now, some distant part of him knew that. And it was his fault.

But for that one precious moment, he was accepted, cherished, needed. He was Sephiroth’s - Sephiroth’s puppet, but he didn’t even mind. Because for that one moment, the ache in his soul finally eased.


	4. Chapter 4

Cloud woke up with the sound of gunfire still ringing in his ears. He felt warm – too warm, burning. His limbs were tangled up in the bedsheets, trapped, suffocating, and his hair was damp with sweat. His heart was pounding, tears pricking at his eyes though he couldn’t say why.

“Shh, puppet. You were just dreaming.”

A low, deep voice, soothing. Cloud gradually stilled, then let out a sigh. His dreams slipped away from him, nebulous, unremembered things. They left only an uneasy chill in his bones.

Sephiroth helped Cloud untangle himself from the bedding. Cloud had stolen it all during the night, leaving Sephiroth with no blankets at all, but Sephiroth seemed only amused by this. They were both SOLDIERs, after all; cold tolerance was not a problem. Blankets were just a comfort, rather than necessity, even in the depths of the Northern Crater.

Sephiroth pulled Cloud against his chest, and Cloud relaxed into the embrace. “You are here with me now, puppet,” Sephiroth murmured to him. “Your past – those dreams – they mean nothing.”

Cloud nodded. “I know.”

He knew, but they still shook him.

“Come,” Sephiroth said.

It was close enough to morning now that there was little sense in trying to get back to sleep. Instead, Sephiroth led Cloud out to the edge of the Crater, where they could watch the dawn begin. It was one of the few pleasures Sephiroth took. The beauty in the silence of those moments almost made him regret that the Planet had to be destroyed; but then day would break, and the infestation of humans of the Planet would stir, and, oh, yes, Sephiroth looked forward to the end of them.

Cloud leant against Sephiroth’s side, still quiet and a little pale. It was colder outside – the warren of caves inside the Crater, where they had made their home, were close to the rivers of mako that flowed through the Planet. It helped warm them. Still, when Cloud shivered, it wasn’t entirely because of the cold.

The sky burned red. The sun clawed its way above the mountain range to the south, small and unimpressive compared to the deep, fiery radiance of Meteor already high above them. It grew in size everyday, closer and closer. It wouldn’t be long now.

Some part of Cloud still feared it, even though he knew it was all part of Sephiroth’s plan. His plan; because whatever Sephiroth wanted, Cloud wanted too.

Sephiroth wrapped his arm over Cloud’s shoulders, holding him close. Cloud tilted his head up. Their eyes met, identical pairs of slit-pupils and mako green, and Sephiroth smiled.

“This is the end of the world, isn’t it?” Cloud said.

“Yes.”

“…I’m glad.”

Sephiroth leaned down and kissed him. Cloud was so very receptive to the affection, so pliant. He returned the kiss; if not with happiness, then at least with surrender. He parted his lips to let Sephiroth in.

Sephiroth purred in approval. “Good, puppet.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt:
> 
> "what about an au where sephiroth is the unknowing puppet but cloud plays along as his puppet because he likes it?"
> 
> This chapter is NSFW, though the sex is mostly glossed over.

Cloud felt it in the way Sephiroth looked at him, the way Sephiroth’s voice resounded in his mind, within his cells. His soul stirred, but it was a passing curiosity.

“Give me the Black Materia,” Sephiroth said.

He expected Cloud to obey. Cloud knew that, he could feel it in his blood. The same way he could feel the phantom burn of mako through his veins, the screams of the Planet injected directly into him. The same way he could taste ash in his mouth, a thousand needles and scars that had healed long ago but still left their marks.

Cloud felt the Call. He didn’t feel the compulsion to respond.

Was he so damaged he couldn’t even answer to Her Reunion? So damaged… so tired of fighting to stay whole.

He didn’t need to obey Sephiroth. But he handed over the Black Materia anyway.

———

Cloud curled beneath Sephiroth’s arm. They were together at the end of the world, watching the red sky burn. The Northern Crater was harsh, bitterly cold, but neither of them felt it any more.

“Puppet,” Sephiroth said. Cloud heard the rumble of his voice where they were pressed together. “I have one last task for you.”

Cloud turned to Sephiorth, letting his eyes widen in expectation.

“Those… _friends_  of yours. They are irritatingly tenacious. I want you to destroy them.”

Cloud thought about this for a long moment. “No,” he said.

Sephiroth’s eyes narrowed in an instant. The Call heightened, screaming through every cell in Cloud’s body. He heard it like a distant roar.

“No,” Cloud said again. “They will die with the rest of the Planet.” His composure wavered. “They were… nice to me. Once.”

The next sound he made was a choked gasp.

Sephiroth’s hand was around Cloud’s throat. There was fury burning deep in the mako green of his eyes. It had not taken him long to understand - his control over Cloud had failed. His control over Cloud had never been there in the first place. But he could still control him with violence.

“How?” Sephiroth hissed.

He was a God. He did not _fail_.

There were tears gathering in the corners of Cloud’s eyes, lungs burning as he struggled to breathe. He let Sephiroth in. He opened his mind for Jenova’s will to see, for Sephiroth to see. 

Cloud wondered. Would Sephiroth strike him down, for the deception? Or would he accept Cloud all the more? He had allowed Sephiroth to control him willingly. Because it hurt so much never being good enough, to always be wrong, be weak. He wanted to be good enough for Sephiroth. He wanted to let someone else take control for once. Was that so terrible?

Sephiroth’s grip loosened, and Cloud choked in gasping breaths.

“You gave me the Black Materia of your own will.”

Cloud nodded gingerly, not recovered enough to speak.

“You wrought the destruction of the Planet by choice.”

Cloud’s voice was hoarse, painful. “…I want the suffering to end.”

“Cloud.”

The Call was still there, in the back of his mind. Not screaming at him now, not trying to override his own will, as futile as that had been. This Call was open. A suggestion, not an order. It was laced with growing approval.

The loyalty of a servant was bought. The loyalty of a believer… that was far more precious.

They still had work to do if Sephiroth wanted a true follower, but Cloud’s obedience thus far - bar this one hiccup - did bode well.

He wondered what else Cloud would choose to obey.

When Sephiroth kissed Cloud, the mako in Cloud’s eyes flared. He did not react for a moment. He squirmed, hands on Sephiroth’s shoulders, ready to push him away.

But then Cloud made his choice.

He kissed Sephiroth back. Not melting into the kiss with the subservience of a puppet, but returning it with the passion of a man clutching at the only glimmer of pleasure in a bitter sea of past hurts.

Sephiroth smirked. He could grow to like this. Cloud was just begging to be dominated, but would not let just anyone take control of him. The challenge made an enjoyable change. What else was there to fight for, when he was already a god?

Sephiroth pushed Cloud to the ground, pinning him down as he struggled, almost playfully. Cloud’s lips curved into a snarl, but his eyes were bright, mischievous. He had made his choice, and Sephiroth could feel it in the thrum of their shared cells.

Cloud fucked like a wildcat. He wrapped his legs around Sephiroth’s hips, clawed deep red marks all down Sephiroth’s back as he screamed. And when Sephiroth was through with him, Cloud flipped their positions and took Sephiroth as well.

“What are you?” Sephiroth mused, holding a naked and still slightly trembling Cloud against him. He could not call Cloud his puppet. Cloud possessed too much free will to be a true disciple. An equal? But Cloud was no god, and none equalled Sephiroth.

A lesser deity, perhaps. His very own fallen angel.

The idea made him smile.

Cloud brought their lips together again. His expression was serious, and so very lost. “I don’t know,” he said.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The inspiration for this particular little miniature piece is thanks to Kizunatsudoishi recommending a song for creepy stalker Sephiroth vibes: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_xz10ZNNkoM

Midgar was a shattered ruin, yet to Sephiroth it still felt like home. The light was dull and greyed, casting looming shadows in the cracks and corners of the desolated city. Concrete rose like gravestones from the smog that swirled around Sephiroth’s ankles.

He walked slowly - even that was too much exertion. The Lifestream shuddered with every step he took, mako-green particles flaring into life, sparking from the ground he trod, and dying again in moments.

But He was here.

Sephiroth faced Cloud across the empty space. He loved this moment, when Cloud realised. He love the despair on his face, the lines that grew deeper and more weary with every battle, the way his shoulders slumped with the weight of the world on them.

The way the light died in Cloud’s eyes a little more each time Sephiroth returned, again and again and again.

“Leave me _alone_ ,” and Cloud’s voice was nothing more than an aching, hollow rasp.

Sephiroth only continued, inexorably moving forward, inch by inch.

His puppet remained still, frozen in place. Eyes flickered as he fought, mako green flooding blue then back again. Sephiroth’s control had faded… but he didn’t mind. He wondered if Cloud truly answered his call at all, or if he came because he was just as addicted to his suffering as Sephiroth was. 

They stood face to face, ruins of men amongst the ruins of a city. Sephiroth reached out, his fingers grazing along Cloud’s jaw, cupping Cloud’s face with utmost tenderness.

Cloud’s voice shook. “What do you want?”

“To tell you,” Sephiroth murmured. “That I will always love you.”

The words achieved what Masamune never could; to pierce Cloud’s fragile heart once and for all.

Sephiroth smiled in his victory, even as the ghost of his form unravelled. He was a phantom of Lifestream and sheer will; he knew staying longer was an impossibility. But the last thing he saw as he faded was the silent, broken rage in his precious puppet’s eyes.

Sephiroth may have been an echo of his former self, nothing to cling to but failure and bittersweet memories… but Cloud was no better off. And Sephiroth wanted him all the more for it.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another tiny snippet based on Kizunatsudoishi's Sefikura-flavoured song recs.

Cloud felt like he was burning up, like the mako in his veins was clawing at his skin from the inside. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. It was like an infection; it had started where Sephiroth touched him, scorching his skin with electricity, and it had only spread through his entire body since.

Sephiroth. Sephiroth, Sephiroth, _Sephiroth_.

Every cell in his body sung at the thought. _Wantneedobeylove_. Anything for Sephiroth.

‘Good boy.’ 'My puppet.’ Those words echoed through his head on repeat, sending shivers of pleasure through him every time. He was desperate to hear them again. He wanted Sephiroth’s eyes on him, piercing and otherworldly; he wanted to see the way Sephiroth’s lips curved into that affectionate smirk; he wanted to hear Sephiroth’s voice, low and seductive as he purred praise to Cloud.

He wanted Sephiroth to kiss him, undress him, take him in every way imaginable.

Cloud’s hands trembled, his eyes flooded with mako and completely glossed over. There was nothing in the world that he cared for anymore, all of it burned to ashes in the wake of Sephiroth’s glory. It made his soul ache, but at the same time the thought of being without his master, his _god_ , was torture.

Alien, untouchable, beautiful beyond human comprehension. And Cloud wanted him so badly he couldn’t breathe.

Every cell in his body sung at the thought. He wasn’t Cloud, not like this. He was Sephiroth’s puppet. And as long as he was Sephiroth’s, there was not a single thing else in existence that mattered.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time I write puppet Cloud things I swear I'll do an AU or something with a different twist to it. This time is not that time, alas. But have just a touch of Sephiroth's fucked up reasoning.

Cloud’s face was blank, eyes glazed over and bright with mako. There was blood smeared across his cheek and in his hair; acquired sometime during their lengthy battle, though the actual injury had long since healed up. He was still breathing heavily, but his body was limp with exhaustion and surrender.

He had fought well. Oh, he didn’t have the perfect obedience Sephiroth had originally been seeking, but this… this was better. Cloud had spirit, and finally succeeding in bending that spirit to his will was all the sweeter for Sephiroth.

“Good boy,” Sephiroth purred.

His puppet didn’t protest as Sephiroth drew him into his arms. Cloud slumped into the embrace, and Sephiroth could feel the soft tremble that still ran through him.

It was fascinating, it truly was. The tiniest movements Cloud made, the way his fingers gradually curled and uncurled. How soft his skin was when Sephiroth traced fingertips against Cloud’s exposed throat. Humans were such intricate creatures; fragile, yet resilient at the same time. Cloud was proof of that.

Sephiroth’s hand lowered, splaying above Cloud’s sternum. He could feel the pounding of his puppet’s heart, fluttering like a bird in a cage.

“Cloud.”

Cloud moved like he was in a dream, movements languid yet overly precise. Almost robotic. He turned his blank eyes to Sephiroth’s face.

His pretty pink lips parted, breath barely more than a whisper. “Sir?”

Sephiroth smirked. Oh, yes. Cloud was all his, that stubborn mental resistance finally broken.

“Do you understand, Cloud? Why we need the Black Materia?”

He stared up, eyes blown wide. Sephiroth could see the way he struggled to think, struggled to find the words that would please Sephiroth.

“F-for you…”

Sephiroth smiled indulgently at him, leaning in to press a kiss against Cloud’s unresisting lips. “Because humans are pathetic, insolent creatures,” he murmured. “They stole the planet from Mother. They walk around as though they own this world, not even seeing their own _wretchedness_.”  

“Oh,” Cloud breathed.

Sephiroth reached out and tucked a strand of Cloud’s hair behind his ear, leaning in to whisper seductively to him. “Destroying them would be a mercy.”

The way Cloud responded was delicious, a helpless shiver running all the way through him.

“So, my Cloud. Will you help me?”

Sephiroth’s hand cupped Cloud’s cheek, and Cloud tilted his head into the contact, his eyes blank and blown wide. 

“Yes, sir,” he said.


End file.
